


Lilliputian Golden Heart

by Touhoulicious



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Creepy, Disturbing, Eerie, Horror, M/M, OC, Scary, castle - Freeform, haunted, unnerving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Touhoulicious/pseuds/Touhoulicious
Summary: Russia finds a castle in the place of his house after coming back from a world meeting. Unbelievable moments arise.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Konata101](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konata101/gifts).



**Prologue - Outside**

 

Ivan Braginski was walking back home from that world meeting, which this time took place in Moscow. Relieved from all those arguing nations, he still wished they became one, so they’d all live in peace. Walking further through the sunset and the peaceful town, his foot noticed something was off about the sidewalk. A strange, shallow hole lied through the cement, forming the figure of a footprint. As the Russian raised his head and discovered that a path was suddenly in front of him, everything seemed blurry and all he heard was ringing. In a lot of pain, Russia roughly fell on his knees, nearly digging his nails on his head. But the pain was immediately gone a few seconds later, along with the ringing and blurriness. In all of a sudden. It left no remains. However, as he got up, another surprise awaited him.

 

The music of people talking and cars passing through the road had died down. Nothing but absolute silence. It wasn’t the type of silence which you could hear crickets chirping, birds singing and a clock ticking. It was absolute silence. Like if he was in space, as you can’t hear any sound unless you’re involved with pulsating electromagnetic vibrations. No sound could travel to his ears.

 

All the people, cars and bikes were gone. The town turned into a desert, but you could also call it a setting for a post-apocalyptic story. It also became much darker than normal, considering how all the lights were turned off and how all the doors and windows were closed.

 

The absolute silence was broken by Ivan getting up on his feet and slowly walking as he began to pant nervously. He didn’t trust the footprints. All he wanted was to go back home and feel the safety of his house. But to do that, he had to walk through that unnerving ambient. The bigger the effort, the better the reward, they say.

 

As he walked further on the way he always used to go back home, he realized the path of footprints were leading him into his own house and how they slowly became bigger the nearer he came towards his safe space. When he first met this strange path, the marks seemed very small, of the size of a finger. However, as he set his own feet onto his block, his feet were fitting perfectly onto the footprints.

 

When he got at the location of his house… Wait, that didn’t seem to be his house. Instead, Russia saw a very tall, old castle. Despite its fanciness, it looked abandoned, considering that the building was falling apart a bit. The nation wondered if he was in the wrong block. No, it seemed to be the right one. After all, his house did have a small grocery store near it and there it was. The same store was there, from the same angle from the front of his house. The black and lavender mailbox Ivan always lived with looked exactly the same. This couldn’t be… Was this really his house?

 

Even the sunflower=filled garden looked the same. With the same flowers he loved since he was born. As Ivan slowly touched the cold, metal doorknob that would open the creepy wooden doors, the wind became more and more intense. Someone to give him company in the absolute silence with the sounds that only he was making. With the cold waves of air intensifying, the tall man fastened the process and entered what seemed to be pure darkness.

 

At the moment when nothing but black surrounded Russia, he heard a little click. Feeling behind him, the doors didn’t budge. The castle locked him by the inside. Widening his eyes, he wondered what was going on, if this was a dream or not. But it felt too real, he was feeling very conscious. It wasn’t like the dreams he always had, where everything’s chaotic and the dialogue between him and someone else was completely incomprehensible.

 

When he tried to open the door, something lightened up the room a bit. As Ivan turned around, little, violet flames were floating around him. It was a “flying candle” infestation. From this moment, the color violet replaced the color black.


	2. No Soul is Born Shattered

Russia looked around him. The entrance hall was falling apart, the decorations were covered with cobwebs and everything seemed to be covered by dust. Looking more around the room, he realized there were no stairs. But why is the castle tall, then?

 

The country then noticed a small, unusual door. It looked like a small gate and next to it, there was a button. However, inside the door was nothing but a shade of pitch black. Trying to get the elevator, the button didn’t glow and there were no sounds. It wasn’t working. There were no windows, either and to frighten him even more, the door disappeared. A creepy, damaged wall was on its place instead.

 

Trying to keep himself calm, Ivan decided to explore the rooms for a clue. The living room had nothing interesting, except for a creaky floor and a piece of paper on one of the sofas – It was big and it seemed to be a child’s drawing of a baby bear. The paper looked very old and damage. Centuries old, considering the dust and how dark shades took over the paper. Going to the bathroom, where the toilet was gone, the tiles were falling apart – leaving Russia somewhat afraid of one of them falling in his head – and only the bathtub remained, he saw another piece of paper that fitted perfectly with the first one. Of a brother bear. At the dining room, where violet candles were tidily organized around the old, beautiful plates and silverware, on the table that had a dazzling golden tablecloth, the piece of a sister bear was on in the middle of the table, waiting for someone to come. Taking the three pieces up, he went to the kitchen and decided to solve the puzzle on the table. A baby bear observing his strangely slow older siblings. It had a cute and innocent atmosphere, just like Russia when he was very little.

  


_“_ _I miss my childhood so much… I wish I was little again. Perhaps ignorance and naivety can equal happiness...”_

 

Smiling at the drawing, memories flowed back to Ivan. The drawing was his, created when he was very little. Just a little five-year-old innocent child, wanting to create his own stories. Closing his eyes and touching the strange texture of the paper, everything felt different now. Russia felt he was shrinking, becoming more innocent, happy and getting rid of the traumas he had. The weather became warmer and gentle sunlight heated him up. A little Russian child was happily holding a drawing that he did a few minutes ago and was going to tell a story to his little cloth toys. No matter how simple these were, little Ivan thought they were special to him.

 

\- “Hey, wanna hear a story?” The little boy grinned as he knelt and showed the drawing to his toys. He cheerfully told them the story he created all about himself. Something parents would really be proud of – A little child developing their imagination.

 

\- “Once upon a time, there was a little baby bear who had parents and a brother and sister, and he loved them all very much. One day, his brother and sister decided to eat snails and they became very slow. They walked like turtles and talked like them. The baby bear decided to get some bunnies and the brother and sister ate the bunnies. They were back to normal and all of them happily went to have lunch. The end!”

  


Such an innocent story… Back when Ivan’s soul wasn’t shattered.

 

_“I was such a creative child back then… That story was very cute, and as a child, I didn’t understand how dark it was for an animal to eat another animal...”_

  


Opening his eyes, his mind matured up once again, the breeze became colder and the darkness with shades of violet came back once more. Sighing and letting the smile shrink a bit, Russia had a last glance at the drawing before walking out of the kitchen. But something was off about the entrance hall. Stairs were actually there, leading him to the second floor. However, something else was about to try to prevent him.

 

Russia felt cold slime around his foot. As he tried to walk, the grip of the strange substance was slowly twisting his ankle, making the nation turn around to see what was there. Looking down to his foot, the carpet around the stairs changed into slime and little tubes were also popping out of it. Eerie eyeballs suddenly raised from the cylinders.

 

Nearly panicking, Braginski took out his pipe and smashed the tubes, making a loud, metallic noise within the slimy background sounds. With a very quiet scream, the eyes vanished and the carpet was back to its natural position. Relieved, but still suspicious of what might happen later, he decided to go upstairs. As he went to the second floor, the candles of the first floor slowly disappeared, leaving it to pure darkness once again.


	3. Broken Child

More violet candles lightened up the second floor, that seemed to be a dark, small hall consisting of only three doors. The room that defined the boundary between the first and second floors disappeared, telling Russia to progress. Going to the right wall where only one big, wooden door was there, he slowly opened it, the structure making quiet, but creepy squeaks. The man went inside to the pitch blackness which got eliminated by more violet candles. Many wooden, book-filled shelves got revealed, along with a giant clock that stopped ticking long ago. It was a library.

 

Observing what the shelves had, Ivan realized that the vast majority of the books were blank, with beige covers with nothing written on them. He couldn’t get or open the books, no mater how hard he tried. Looking for more clues, it seemed like only a few books were actually colored and not stuck to the shelves they belonged to. He knew a few of them. “The White Guard”, by Mikhail Bulgakov. “War and Peace”, by Leo Tostov. “Ivan the Terrible”, by Pierre Stephen Robert Payne. Russia didn’t know some of the other books, maybe because they had been buried by obscurity for years.

 

Spending time reading some of the books, including the unknown ones…

 

“The Mongol empire seemed to be too strong for Rus’, considering only 7,000 mongols died in the war, while the other nation lost 6-7% of its population because of the invasion.

 

The Mongol Empire ended up influenced heavily on Rus’ society, with the Tatar language becoming popular and many Russian noblemen adopted Tatar surnames.”

 

One thing was in common – They all talk about wars. Remembering Russia on how many wars did he witness. Maybe a hundred? No, even more. He witnessed screams, wrath, deaths and blood thirst since he was a very young child. Not wanting to remember them anymore, he decided to go to another room, leaving the library to the sound of echoing footsteps. Opening up one of the two smaller doors on the other wall, a few violet candles were already here and there, revealing how small the room was.. It revealed a little clothesline near the ceiling, a bucket full of clothes and a rusty, old mangle. It seemed to be a laundry room.

 

The mangle wasn’t working anymore, having a broken lever. The clothesline had no garments being dried off. So the only clothes he was about to see were inside the bucket. Seeing what was inside, it seemed to be women’s dresses. Picking the silky fabric with his hands, Ivan noticed how the outfits seemed to belong to tsarinas, considering the red, frilly sashes that came with the fancy dresses. Unfortunately, the dresses didn’t age well and looked a bit damaged, which was a shame because they looked so gorgeous to the man who couldn’t stop staring at them.

 

Analyzing one of them by hanging it on the clothesline, it looked absolutely beautiful. With low shoulders, white and seemingly blue details (It wasn’t clear due to the violet candles) and a very puffy skirt, it sparkled a bit thanks to the light the flames brought with themselves. But while Russia was distracted with the dress, a small, dark stain suddenly appeared on the middle of the dress. Barely noticeable, Russia analyzed more of the colored details. Then, sound of drips came to accompany the sound of the nation breathing. Wondering where the sound came from, he already started to turn around his head, but he didn’t find any signs of water leaking.

 

While taking deeper breaths as Braginski realized there was no sign of leaks, the fabric his hands were holding got moister, like if he just took out from a sink. As the Russian turned around, he noticed the shocking conclusion. The tiny stain now became a huge, red stain around the dress, nearly tainting half of it with fresh blood. Widening his eyes and emitting a tiny gasp, he took a step backwards, before noticing a message seemed to be scribbled with charcoal on the door.

 

 

“If a child is traumatized, they are broken forever.”

 

 

 

Already getting chills down his spine, Ivan got out from the room as fast as he could, getting a bit away from the door in fear of something coming out of it. Thoughts of the dress coming to get him, or a red, viscous river breaking the door and flooding the whole castle. With his pupils looking at both sides… No signs of stairs leading to the third floor. It seemed like he needed to look at all the rooms to make progress inside this creepy building.

 

Opening the small door, a dark tunnel showed an entrance to a room as big as the library, with the candles only being there, not on the eerie hall. Walking through it, nothing bad seemed to be hidden in the darkness. Ivan was already having intrusive thoughts that made him not trust anything he saw. Walking inside the big room, he saw a big sign with a few words catching the tall man’s attention.

 

“Welcome to the Russian Tsardom exposition! There, you can see everything about Russia during the Modern Ages, full of battles, tsars and tsarinas. Have fun time traveling to five hundred years ago!”

 

Russia smiled briefly, however he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel fear or joy from that.

 

_“_ _I don’t like this floor… Not one little bit...”_

 

Clutching both of his hands on his chest (Where the heart is supposed to be), he walked around the mini-museum, filled with models of royals, battles and cities. Tsars, tsarinas, warriors. Ivan The Terrible, Livonian War and Tatar Rebellion. Autocracy, Cathedral of the Archangel and Roman Catholicism. Every model with love and care put into them, looking just like if they were made in the Renaissance period. Each project seemed to took years to complete, because it looked so detailed. But Ivan didn’t care about the quality of the art, as he was focusing on its concept. Reminding him of when his innocence was shattered. Reminding him how war brutally broke him as a child. Reminding him how war traumatized an innocent, little Russian boy.

 

Laying on the floor and simply staring at the ceiling, devoid of emotion, the Russian started to have very traumatic flashbacks. Of a bloody battlefield, between the Russians and Byzantines, back in 840. When Russia was simply Rus’, a little boy.

 

The naive, cute little boy was walking near the source of the screams and metallic sounds. Wondering where these frightening sounds came from. Focusing on his own footsteps for comfort, right after that, he saw the battle between the Russians and Byzantines. The first reaction was of confusion, wondering what was happening. Sure, they were fighting, but some were strangely… “falling asleep”. Those who were asleep were bursting out that weird red liquid that he once shed when he fell from a small tree while playing. Widening his eyes as he didn’t know what happened, the boy felt a big hand grabbing his shoulder. Looking back, he saw a brawny, middle aged adult, with a worried and serious look towards the future adult.

 

\- “Young man, this isn’t a scene you would like to see.”

 

Raising his head to make eye contact, Ivan asked a question to the man whose answer would be remembered forever.

 

\- “What happened to these people who are squirting out red juice? Did they fall asleep?”

 

The man sighed and knelt, this time holding both of the little child’s shoulders. Taking a deep breath, because the answer would probably scare the young one, he broke the silence between the two.

 

\- “They went… On a trip to Heaven. Meeting Jesus. But here, in Earth… They’re _dead._ ”

 

The future Russian Federation widened his little eyes, before clutching his small hands. He wondered about the word “dead” and about the “trip to heaven”.

 

\- “Will they come back…?”

 

\- “No, they will not come back.”

 

\- “They will be like this…. Forever?”

 

\- “Forever.”

 

\- “But why?”

 

\- “Just… Because, little boy… Just because. Nobody can explain that.”

 

Tears were already leaking a bit from Russia’s eyes, falling to the side of his head as he simply stared at the violet candles. It wasn’t the man’s fault. That was reality, after all. The painful truth behind reality.

 

_“_ _I remember that… It was me being introduced to death. I was confused, but the moment I realized what the man really meant with “they’re not coming back” and with the term “trip to heaven”… Broken. I was broken. And it looked like I couldn’t be fixed. So many moments like this happened when I was a child… Why couldn’t wars wait until I grew up?”_

 

Getting up and wiping the tears away, already tired of those traumas,  he left the museum, not looking at the models, since they would worsen the situation. Looking at the left side of the hall… There were stairs, leading to the third floor. Ivan was still a bit scared if a monster was going to pop up, so he grabbed his pipe and started to go carefully, step after step, avoiding the carpet. No signs of danger. 

 

The second floor was, like the first floor, hidden in darkness.


	4. Delusions

The third floor was quite an unusual place. It was quite a large room, with glass walls (Which showed nothing but pitch blackness) and grassy floor. Ivan, confused about the texture his shoes detected, ducked and touched the grass. It felt like plastic – It was artificial. Getting up and analyzing more around him, he saw a whole garden, with bushes of diverse flowers, and some splendid trees here and there. However… They were all artificial. Fake. Beauty was there to hide something. That must mean the floor was trying to bring a message, but… About what?

 

Trying to leave the castle, the nation took out his pipe and attempted to break the glass. However, the amorphous solid… Strangely survived the impact. Not even one crack was left from that hit. The castle truly got him stuck by the inside.

 

Disappointed with the result, Russia walked away from the glassy walls and decided to look at them for any doors. There seemed to be only two, in two different parallel walls. Carefully opening one of them, instead of a violet candle, there were two – Blue and red. The division was frighteningly symmetrical – Perfectly aligned. Looking at the blue side, he noticed a large painting, more on height than on width. It showed the portrait of a smiling man in a hanbok, whose brown hair had a curl with a happy face. It was Im Yong Soo. South Korea. Republic of Korea. The capitalist side of the Korean peninsula. The side of Korea which was allied with America, which was a country many didn’t want to mess with (Even when Russia didn’t fear him very much).

 

Turning around, at the red side, he saw the same frame of the same size, however with a different person. It was a very expressionless and serious young woman, whose black hair was composed of cute curls, and wore a tidy blue military outfit along with a big cap. Her dark brown eyes expressed feelings of wrath, torment and revenge. It was Im Hye Soo. North Korea. Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. The socialist side of the Korean peninsula. The side of Korea which held a bitter, enormous grudge for America, in an attempt to hide her own problems.

Russia remembered how there used to be only one Korea. But in 1945, she died and gave birth to two children, where a Soviet Ivan took the girl while America took the boy. Trying to have the memories flood back, the federation heard a loud, rough noise of something big falling to the floor.

 

 

**“YOU TOLD ME WE WERE GOING TO BE TOGETHER FOREVER… WHY DID YOU LIE TO ME?!”**

 

 

Turning around, Ivan noticed how the drawing in the “red side” has fallen over after he finished hearing the raspy, bitter voice, expressing hatred and anger over his “betrayal”. As he took a step backwards, his pupils took a look at two cylinders coming out of the North Korea painting. These quickly formed fingers and hands, while shoulder-length black curly hair seemed to come out of the painting.

 

“She” revealed “herself”. A pale, ill “woman” whose body seemed to fall apart. With ‘her” eerie expression showing wrath, and enraged “eyes” staring at him, the Russian took out his pipe to stop the monster. But as it merely touched the ‘North Korean’, it suddenly felt more like he was holding a pipe-shaped canvas, with a slight aroma of fresh paint invading his nostrils. The tube seemed to be now flattened, with one of its sides completely blank.

… Did that ‘woman” just transform the pipe into a painting?

 

It was unbelievable, remembering how North Korea was never that strong to begin with. But that didn’t matter right now. All he needed to do was to run. Russia didn’t want to become a mere figure in a canvas, after all. Swallowing his spit and with his whole body trembling, he loudly and roughly shut the door of that room, his eyes still very widened. To his hope, he heard a “click”, and he looked at the door once again. It has been locked. But also accompanied by constant banging.

 

 

**“YOU’RE SUCH A FILTHY HYPOCRITE, IVAN… AFTER ALL I HAVE DONE FOR YOU… YOU SAID WE’D BE FAMILY!”**

 

 

\- “We would, but… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry! I had to leave! Forgive me!”

 

Stepping away from that door which left a desperate, vengeful “Asian” behind, Ivan ran to the room behind the second door, wanting to get away from that situation. Shutting the door and not paying attention to what the surroundings were about, he stacked his two hands around his heart, which was pounding like crazy. Wanting to vomit from all the fear built up inside his body, as his stomach seemed to be jumping like a child skipping rope. Tears coming out from his violet eyes once again. Then, the nation started to think about more rational plans before approaching the room. Would he be able to burn the painting with the candles? Not sure. He still had fear taking over his brain, in the form of an “irrational intrusive thought” machine.

 

The room seemed to be a gallery, considering there were posters precisely glued to the walls, one next to the another. Each poster had realistic drawings of humans, with shades of red and white, and tall Cyrillic letters in that same vibrant red color. Many drawings were either of strong women, Lenin, Russian soldiers making Mussolini and Hitler piss their pants, a sickle and a hammer, Stalin, or happy Russian astronauts trying to get their place in the Space Race. The posters seemed to be made when Russia was known as Soviet Union. The Union of Soviet Socialistic Republics. These posters tried to make the nation look fierce, tell a message to stay with the Allies or to tell how capitalism was bad.

 

Laying down with his back against the wall and holding his scarf, Russia started to think about those days. Those days were he tried to make people become one with him, when he tried to make friends, when he tried to become strong and powerful… But there was one problem – He was living a delusion at that time.

 

_“_ _North Korea… She was like my child. A younger sister. Like how America was to England. But… I… I had to go back to capitalism, as I was suffering back then… And I had to leave her…_

 

_And as I left, she became a very ill woman… She was weak, tormented, and enraged. I’m a monster… I shouldn’t have snatched the child from Korea… I should have left both with America… I’m a psychopath…_ _What have I done?_ _”_

 

Rocking back and forth a bit, and closing his eyes, Ivan remembered of a moment that was both heart-warming and heart-breaking. Inside a space station, with a smile and a playful, young mongrel female dog. Playing with little Laika, before she went to space. Hugging and playing catch, the dog ran around, her ears flopping and her tail wagging.

 

_“Thinking of my Soviet times… I remember Laika. I miss her so much… I sacrificed her for science. Even when it sparked a lot of progress… I still become sad when I get reminded of her smile, her loyalty, and her panting, as she was excited to see me… What have I done?”_

 

The next thing was Ivan’s anxiety as Laika was in space.

 

November 4, 1957. Russia was at home, having his breakfas, and gentle sunlight hitting his house, when he noticed how he forgot to read the newspaper.

 

And there was it. How Laika died during the space travel. The Slavic man… Was shattered. Tears flowed inside his eyes, before sobbing loudly. That playful, happy dog wasn’t going to be with him anymore. One of his most loyal friends, as she wasn’t scared of him.

 

He lost… A big friend. He lost someone who understood him.

 

_“_ _I don’t care if you’re dead… I will always be with you, Laika… Why won’t North Korea understand the same? I just pity her a lot… It’s for the sake of her.”_

 

Just staring at the cold, artificially grassy floor, Ivan grabbed it as he noticed how empty he was feeling. Lack of friendship… Lack of love. He never understood why people always avoided and feared him, what has he done?

 

Getting up and trying to move on, he heard two subsequent loud noises, that were similar – Of breaking wooden doors. One was quiet, frightening the Russian, and the other one was louder, meaning that the painting of ‘North Korea” was coming. Looking behind him, the same wrathful woman was quickly crawling to get him. Desperate, but attempting to do something, he got reminded of the idea of burning her with the candles. Holding a candle with warm wax and a violet flame Ivan’s expression was of worry, but his eyes lost his sparkle and a frightening, purple aura was around him. 

 

\- “Oh, my child… I’ m afraid your time to part has come...”

 

As  the “woman” looked at him with a confused look, ‘her” skin was suddenly turning into ashes and burned like a paper would. As the flames danced around ‘her”, “she” emitted ear-splitting screams while covering her face. It was a burning canvas. Ivan simply took a deep breath, widening his lifeless eyes.

 

**“IT HURTS… IT BURNS! YOU LIAR! I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU!”**

 

Ivan walked away, with an empty expression as the “North Korean” turned into a pile of paper ashes. With his purple aura slowly disappearing into the space that was occupied by the fake trees and his eyes returning a bit of his sparkles once again, he saw how stairs were leading to the next floor. Glancing one last time at the artificial flowers, bushes and plants, he stepped forward, holding his own arm and everything behind him going dark. 


	5. Aftermath

Unlike the other floors, the fourth floor was still in absolute darkness, with no candles to accompany the Slavic. However, around the void, there was a glowing golden pile of pieces. Pieces of a shattered object. Going nearer it, his violet eyes perceived a broken hammer and sickle. That is, the Soviet Union has been broken and vanished. However, Russia was still feared and both couldn’t understand each other – The world couldn’t understand Russia and Russia couldn’t understand the world.

 

As Russia touched the shards of what used to be a golden hammer and a sickle, nostalgic feelings started to flow inside his mind. The tall nation blinked a few times, widened his eyes and remembered how America wasn't really his rival anymore. He actually wanted to be his friend, but the younger country was still scared of him. Smiling and closing his eyes, very recent memories flowed back to him to show a bit of friendly bonding

between the two...

 

The weather suddenly became warmer, the floor and walls being composed of golden tiles, clean, polished crystal sinks being glued to mirrors in fancy, wooden frames and the gentle light of a calm, welcoming cloudy afternoon flowed through the room in small windows, that had small shelves with lovely artificial flowers onto them. It was the bathroom of the place Russia always went to spend his time in world conferences.

 

A frustrated America came out of a bathroom stall. Russia curiously looked at the younger nation and slowly walked up to him. With a look of an innocent child, he broke the silence of birds singing quietly and a gentle, cold breeze flowing through the windows...

 

\- "What's wrong, America?"

 

America turned to Ivan, recognizing his voice. He was still a bit scared of him, but not as much as he was in the last century. The tall country's childish smile was letting out a bit of a creepy atmosphere.

 

\- "Nah, nothing, Ivan..."

 

The problem was actually very silly, just too awkward to talk about. However, Russia insisted and suddenly assumed what seemed to be the problem.

 

\- "You're constipated, da?"

 

Alfred blushed a bit, considering how silly and awkward the issue was. Staring at the other nation's innocent eyes, he replied with the following sentence:

 

\- "... How do you know?"

 

Ivan let out a childish, creepy giggle before shoving up one of his hands into his tan coat's pocket. It seemed to be a box of medicine packaging,

but America wasn't sure, considering it was all written in Russian. Ripping a small piece of one of the tablets that had a pill covered by plastic he offered it to the blonde one, grinning innocently. The latter carefully put the piece onto his pants' pocket, with a confused look. He didn't trust Russia very much, but he tried not to freak out, like how the Europeans told him.

 

= "T-Thank you... Heh..."

 

 

Russia happily skipped to the conference room, singing one of the many songs taught in his childhood in his native language. Ignoring the fact that America wasn’t really going to immediately use the pill, as he was kind of suspicious of his former rival’s actions.

 

\- "A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest, he was gathering pine cones and singing songs! A pine cone fell directly onto his forehead, the little bear got angry and stamped his foot!"

 

Smiling and opening up his plastic, black lunchbox that had creepy stickers all over it, his snack looked like an elementary schooler’s. With a knife, two slices of bread, a small, cherry jam sachet, little pastilas and – of course – a bottle of vodka.

 

Ivan still didn't like the "don't play with your food" rule, as he usually loved to play pretend whenever two slices of bread and red jam were involved. He pretended he was a judge, and the slices of bread were two people accused of being involved in a crime, where only one of them is the culprit. This time, he pretended that both of them were accused of involving in money laundering. And after a few minutes of judging, he began what was the most fun part to him: The "execution" of the culprit.

 

The "execution" was Ivan spreading jam over the bread, pretending he was cutting its limbs off. As he finished spreading, he began to normally eat. The other nations were obviously freaked out by that strange game he was doing.

 

Russia opened up his eyes inside the dark room, smiling at that seemingly heartwarming memory. Still staring at the broken communist symbol, a strong blue light unexpectedly began illuminating the dark, mysterious hall, and adding some shine to the hammer and sickle. Looking at the left wall, there were many pretty large windows, introducing to a big, long balcony, with all of them exposing a blue, amazing starry sky. Some of the windows had wind bells from the inside to greet anyone who decided to stargaze, making a sweet melody. Or to relax a rain or storm fell to hydrate Earth, with two calming songs – One of water drops and the other of cute wind bells.

 

Opening the windows to a loud creaking sound, a gentle, cool breeze was blowing against Braginski, as the moon shone intensely in the dark blue sea. However, it was pitch black looking down, like a blue and black gradient. He’d probably fall forever if he jumped, trying to escape from this castle. Was there something to test the deepness of the abyss? Maybe one of the bigger pieces of the broken tools could do the job. The tall nation walked to that golden glowing pile once again and took the biggest piece he saw. Glancing at the stars before testing the abyss, he threw the piece in the darkness, and analyzed how long was the period of falling.

 

The glowing piece just fell until the tiny golden shade within blackness disappeared, indicating that the theory of “falling forever” has been confirmed. Not wanting to do that, Russia laid on the carpet of the balcony, simply staring at that shining, breathtaking full moon, that was there since billions of years ago. Closing his eyes to the melody of wind bells and air blowing gently against his left ear, he began to imagine how China was somewhat his ally. However, he still scared the Asian a bit, considering how the latter thought he killed his panda, and how the Slavic wanted Yao to live with him forever.

 

Considering how he used to scare China, Ivan once again began to imagine a moment when he really terrified the latter. The weather was the same, it was a cool, starry fall night. Inside Wang Yao’s house, the Russian was happily holding a dao, as he spun it around, and gently hit the pipe with it. Giggling and not aware of how it was the same as playing with fire, he briefly heard some fast footsteps, revealing a small Asian man with black hair tied into a ponytail and very casual, slightly girly, cute clothes.

 

= “Ivan! What are you doing?!”

 

Quickly walking towards him, with a stern look, clearly annoyed and worried, China held the dao, wanting to take it away.

 

\- “This dao is not a toy. It’s an ancient weapon, and you clearly could cut yourself with it!”

 

Tilting his head aside, Russia began to sway his feet, before a dark purple aura was around him. No, he wasn’t mad at China, but instead, he had a gentle smile on his face, with both of his arms behind his back. He broke the silence of the Chinese man putting the sword in it’s place.

 

\- “Weapons are toys for me, sometimes… I enjoy using them with games I play with those who annoy me.”

 

China widened his eyes, backing away from him, because of the frightening words the Russian emitted from his mouth.

 

\- “C-Can you stop saying these kinds of things?!”

 

\- “… Did I say something you didn’t like?”

 

Russia had a slightly sad expression as he stared at the starry sky. He was very confused with himself and with the world. So many questions about himself and the others. The tall man didn’t understand why people feared him and he didn’t understand why he was so… Strange. Clutching his hands around his heart once again, he didn’t realize an unusual behavior of the stars of the sky for a moment, but they were moving quickly to form something. A U, A, I, N, S… Letters. The ocean of moonshine and star shine was trying to talk towards the nation. Send him a message.

 

“Oh, Ivan… Are you masochistic? You simply keep sulking with an expression that seems to show that you gave up on life… It seems like you don’t understand yourself fully yet.”

 

 

Ivan was surprised on what the stars said to him. Did they actually sympathize him? Or… Did he have to understand himself before understanding others? Widening his eyes at the answer and getting up, it was like he just took a decision – On how he has to keep going. With a smile at the words the sky told him, he walked towards the sixth floor, leaving the balcony behind. The country was still wanting to find the full answer, but that was a very useful puzzle piece to what he was trying to solve.


	6. Never Forget

Opening two glowing lavender doors, Ivan saw a big ray of turquoise light illuminating the stairs behind him, indicating that unlike the other floors, the fifth floor wasn’t covered by darkness. As he opened the gates, it revealed a simple, yet very beautiful hall. Simple because nothing but walls were living on that hall, beautiful because the walls were glowing shades of turquoise. However, it was a void of blackness far away, indicating that Russia still wasn’t very near the exit of the castle. Walking inside the hall, each step left a shiny, glowing red footprint, showing his progress.

 

Paying more attention towards the walls than to the hall itself, he heard some brief, small footsteps in front of him. As he turned around, a little toddler with platinum blonde hair was playfully skipping towards the end of the hall, disappearing into the void.

 

\- “Hello…? Little boy?”

 

No answer. Walking further through the hall, a similar event happened. This time, a confused older child walked right through Russia like a ghost would, his big-boned body briefly with a void before going back to normal as the young one crossed the long way. With the same platinum blonde hair, a fluffy scar, an ushanka that was too big for his head and a long coat, he vanished in the dark, devoid of emotion and completely ignoring the Russian.

 

Clutching his hands and looking at his own feet, a teenager who looked like an older version of those two children passed through. With a black coat, lifeless eyes and a serious expression, he looked like he was broken by the events of his life.

 

These three looked exactly like Russia. Maybe the castle was wanting to tell about his own life? He wasn’t sure. But he did learn something from it, and the event wasn’t going to be forgotten very easily. Walking more and more, he didn’t see any ghost-like people anymore.

 

Perhaps because it was from Russia’s childhood to adolescence. About his past, as no one can predict the future. He didn’t know how he would look like in the future, the date he would die, or what his next fate would be.

 

As he walked further, the walls became darker within each step, the only visible thing being the Russian’s red footprints. Just staring at the darkness, each thought seemed to be less complex, as he slowly closed his eyes. Nothing but ringing could be seen. All the Slavic felt was his feet sinking into a seemingly liquid substance, everything going neon purple, then black. Fainting to the sound of water penetrating into his ears. Ivan, unconscious inside the shiny purple water,

 

A curved back, bowed head, hands touching the knees and bent legs that were touching the torso. It was like… When Russia was inside Mother Earth’s midriff, still having many years to wait to become strong and powerful. Sinking inside the water, all he heard in the ringing and absolute darkness were the following words, with the soft, caring and kind voice of a woman…

 

“You should never forget who you are.”

 

After a while of unconsciousness, Russia slowly opened his eyes, to a grassy smell, crickets chirping and a starry, blue sky. His first glance was the moon, glowing intensely with many stars surrounding it, along with seemingly tall sunflowers that looked like they were about to hug the tall man and tell him how much they miss him.

 

Getting up and wondering what was happening, he looked around to see where he was. A very flowery garden of sunflowers, with some moths, crickets and grasshoppers wandering around the slightly tall grass. Looking at his side, to his surprise, his eyes noticed a familiar house. Red roof, many blue doors, white walls and a chimney that wasn’t releasing any smoke.

 

That definitely was Russia’s house.

 

Getting up excitedly and with a big smile, the Russian ran inside, feeling the safety of his own living room, with many paintings of flowers, and he couldn’t hold back his tears anymore. Sobbing in happiness, he plopped on the big, red couch and was once again in a fetal position, appreciating the warmness of his house. Home, sweet home.

**Author's Note:**

> \- This is also my version of Economic Flushout.


End file.
